


Where There's A Will...

by justaddglitter



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Everybody Lives Except Garona, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justaddglitter/pseuds/justaddglitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callan Lothar was on a mission. A very important mission.</p><p>He was going to wreck Khadgar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mission

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I'm a huge LionTrust fan, I thought that these two cute little puppies deserved some attention as well :) 
> 
> I chose the warning "Underage" because according to WoW lore, Khadgar was only 17 by the time of the First War and I pictured the boys to be about the same age. Current age in the story: 18.
> 
> English is not my native/first language and this story is not beta-read.
> 
> Please enjoy <3
> 
> DISCLAIMER  
> I don’t own any of the following characters. They are the property of Blizzard Entertainment and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

A light evening breeze wafted through the open window into the room. Papers, scattered across the small desk, parts of the floor and pinned to the walls, moved ever so softly. Arcane crystals glinted in hues of blue, pink and purple, casting colorful dots onto other surfaces. The ceiling rafters creaked seemingly in unison with the single bed in the student’s room below that was currently occupied by two young men.

It was late in May and harbingers of summer had reached the city of Stormwind with vigorous heat.

The citizens took the first heat wave of the season in stride. Winter had lasted long this year - almost until Noblegarden - and April had been more than generous with rainstorms.

Rumors coursed through the land that the dreaded weather was due to the fel and the orcish shamans meddling with the elements, yet there was no proof to sustain such claims.

“I should teleport you back to your bunk,” Khadgar whispered in between their lazy kissing.

“Why’s that?” Callan was quite comfortable right now. Lying only in his unbuttoned breeches besides the other teen, who was in a similar state of undressed, their legs entangled, his right hand combing through raven curls...just exchanging sloppy kisses...this was by far the best part of his day until now. 

“Because you’re halfway asleep already?” With a final flicker of his tongue against Callan’s lower lip, Khadgar pulled back and sat up tailor-fashioned on the mattress. He used his fingers to draw circles against the skin between Callan’s navel and hip. 

“You try spending the whole day outside, in full armour, to oversee preparations for Midsummer Fire with the sun literally frying you the entire time.” The soldier snorted while propping himself up against the headboard to look at his friend, forcing himself to stay focused on their conversation rather than Khadgar’s sinful fingers. He had already begun to harden during their previous tumble, but now, his blood was rushing even faster into his thickening member. 

“Yeah and tomorrow, you’ll probably be doing the same thing again, so you should get some rest,” of course, Khadgar’s hand betrayed his words, as he let his thumb run over the soft curls at the base of Callan’s penis. He was glad that they had rekindled the _curiosity_ they had first experienced years ago upon having been introduced. It was not always easy for people like them to find someone they could trust enough for this sort of thing.

“And how about you? Hm?” The blonde raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Aren’t you leaving for Tirisfal first thing in the morning? Medivh won’t like it, if you’re not up to it.”

It was Khadgar’s turn to snort as he kept rubbing intricate patterns into the muscle right next to Callan’s hip bone. “Master won’t care much about my attitude. According to him, the Council of Tirisfal, or what’s left of it, is nothing but a nuisance. His mother was already against their ancient views and they should just be glad that he deems them worthy enough of his time.”

“Why do you need to go then?” Callan was starting to lose himself in the other teen’s touch. He hissed slightly when Khadgar’s thumbnail raked against the sensitive skin of his abdomen.

“Because the Council isn’t too fond of me and Master just wants to piss them off.” It was true. Ever since Khadgar had cleansed his master from the demon Sargeras - a deed which had only been possible with the help of Lothar alongside Aegwynn’s and Alodi’s spirits - and Medivh had transferred his knowledge to Khadgar, there had been a shift in power. Because Medivh had survived the demonic possession and in the aftermath of the war, he had refused to reverse the transfer to Khadgar upon the Council’s urging. 

The Council argued that there had never been two Guardians. That there could never be two Guardians. And Medivh had agreed with them. There would never be two guardians because the world no longer needed them.

“It’s going to be just like last year,” Khadgar licked his lips at the sight of the steadily swelling member right next to his nimble fingertips, “they’re calling him to remind him of the old ways, the destined path, the future of Azeroth and he’ll end up telling them that Azeroth no longer needs the Guardian. That it has already managed to conjure champions on its own who will protect the world from the demons and their fel.”

“How long will you be gone, then? Doesn’t sound like you’re gonna stay away for weeks.” Callan thanked the Light that he had a friend like Khadgar with whom he was able to converse while his cock was nearly fully erect. That he could be this casual and comfortable around another person without having to worry about being used due to his noble bloodline. The price of a privileged life was high.

“The Council won’t take long. A couple of days at most. But Master wants to check up on Karazhan afterwards. We might be gone for a week, perhaps two.” 

Droplets of pre-cum were gathering in the slit of Callan’s penis which was resting flush against his body, pulsating with heat. He knew that he could just touch himself, that Khadgar did not mind watching, but then again, Callan was rather fond of a certain _act_ the other boy seemed to have perfected.

Reaching out with his right hand, Callan brushed over Khadgar’s left forearm, up to his shoulder, into his hair. He gently grabbed a fistful of dark curls and guided his partner’s face towards his groin. Khadgar’s breath was hot against his aroused skin before Callan felt a long wet lick against the underside of his entire length. 

“Please,” he moaned, never losing sight of the mage’s mouth as his full lips closed around the top of his shaft, “oh, yeah.” He clenched his teeth, inhaling sharply, when Khadgar swallowed his flesh with a muffled sound of pleasure vibrating in his throat.

Within seconds, Callan threw caution out of the window and writhed with lust against that oh so hot mouth. The runes scratched into the walls glowed bright blue as they absorbed their noises.

Callan grunted wantonly as he began to thrust his hips in sync to the rhythm of Khadgar’s mouth and that clever tongue of his. That clever, wicked tongue, trained for the most intricate incantations, that was most likely drawing runes on the underside of his throbbing member right now. 

He could feel his body tensing up, foreboding his climax, while his mind blanked out even further. “Khaaa,” throwing his head back against the pillows, Callan was unable to even think clearly, only moans of pleasure and incoherent babbles left his lips, “so, yeah, please, please, so good, so close.” As the son of a noble, a high ranking noble at that, begging was considered very improper behavior, but such was the beauty of the _curiosity_ he shared with Khadgar: to be able to trust the other completely to the point of losing control.

Khadgar was able to feel how Callan’s heartbeat sped up, how the blood pulsing through the shaft in his mouth was getting hotter with each stroke of his tongue. Looking up from his perched position on the bed, he was barely capable of seeing the young soldier’s face. Callan’s head was lolling back against one of the pillows, entirely lost in their act.

‘ _So beautiful_ ’ Khadgar thought. Wrecking Callan Lothar had become one of his favorite past times. To drive the teenager insane with lust and need. To make him curse, to receive his praise, to watch him come undone. Both of them were in silent agreement that their _curiosity_ would only exist until one of them found a true love interest, that they were only  _friends with benefits_ , so to speak. They practised and improved basic skills for future relationships. Although, judging by the rather illicit moans leaving Callan’s lips, Khadgar could check off _felatio_ on his list of skill sets.

The mage wrapped his right hand tightly around the base of the cock while his mouth remained on the upper half of the thick shaft. When his mouth slid down, his hand would slide up until his lips brushed against the sides of his fingers. Keeping this particular set of motion going faster and faster, it did not take long until Callan’s hips bucked upwards jaggedly, chasing desperately for release.

A sudden cry of passion filled the room the moment Khadgar’s throat was hit with the first spurt of hot semen.

He smiled against the flesh beneath his lips and kept going until the stream of cum diminished entirely. The runes he had drawn upon Callan’s skin were glowing faintly in the darkness of his room.

Both Callan’s body and mind were gradually conquered by the feeling of glorious satisfaction as Khadgar milked the remains of his orgasm from his already shrinking member. “So good,” he murmured before drifting off into a deep slumber. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Callan jerked awake immediately on his top bunk at the sound of the morning reveille. It took him a second to realize that, while being at the barracks was _not wrong_ , it did not feel _quite_ _right_ , either. Eventually, though, realization dawned upon him. 

‘ _That goddamn spellchucker_ ’ he grunted, climbing down from his assigned bed. ‘ _I would’ve been perfectly fine to leave on my own in the morning_.’ 

Making his way towards the washrooms down the hall, the young man was not able to will the scowl off of his face and he did neither care for the looks some of the others were shooting his way because of it.

Landing back in the barracks had not been his plan!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

By midday, the sun was blazing torturously from the sky, Callan still fumed over his failed attempt at finally...well, _returning the favor,_ so to speak.

Again, he was assigned to overseeing Midsummer Fire preparations in the middle of Elwynn Forest, where lumberjacks would cut down tree after tree after tree after tree...guarding the perimeter was not much fun when the layer of sweat beneath one’s armour could have easily filled a castle ditch or two. Miller and Edwards, who had also been sent into the relentless heat, had noticed his sour mood but refrained from asking. 

Callan appreciated that a lot. It gave him some time to clear his thoughts.

While he was grateful for Khadgar’s friendship and the time they spent together, he had eventually come to perceive that he received more than he was giving. Just like last night. 

Evidently, the fact that his friend was willing to give without complaint would have placated most people. Not Callan Lothar. Because this was _Khadgar_ he was thinking about, the young mage who saved all of their asses, who had worked himself into the ground post-war and who barely got any recognition from the public for his deeds!

And, also, Callan was, maybe, curious to see what it felt like to hold this sort of power over the young mage...perhaps. To devour him, to leave him deeply sated yet desiring even more, to cause little bursts of arcane to dance around their bodies. To leave Khadgar panting, his voice hoarse from their ecstasy, to wreck both his mind and body.

Yes, he had given this some thought, alright?

How Khadgar was able to make him beg, to writhe in pleasure, to lose control, to turn his body into nothing but quivering flesh and his brain into a puddle of… Callan took a stilted breath as he willed away a sinister coil of heat stirring beneath navel.

Khadgar would be gone for at least a week, possibly even a fortnight or more. That should allow Callan more than enough time to properly research the matter and to develop a sound attack strategy.

  
Sitting up straighter on his steed, Callan smiled to himself.

He was on a mission, now. A very important mission.

He was going to wreck Khadgar.

 


	2. Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everybody who's read the first chapter and supported me with either kudos and/or comments. Apparently, there are now a few more Khadgar/Callan fics in the archive and I couldn't be happier, these two are simply too cute.
> 
> Now, the important thing (to some of you): no porn in this chapter! If you're looking for porn, you'll have to wait until the next chapter. Spoiler alert: it'll feature bathing chambers ;)

As the first day of Khadgar’s absence had progressed, Callan developed a sound strategy concerning his studies for the upcoming weeks until his friend would return.

His first course of action was to gather data. In order to research properly, he would need a sufficient amount of information to cover all the basics. Preparation was half the battle, after all and he planned on winning.

His shift for the day had not been too demanding, yet extremely exhausting due to his armour having turned into an oven set on boiling him alive in his own sweat. He had remembered, more than once, Khadgar having mentioned an elixir that would reduce fire damage to the body and that, perhaps, he would be able to alter it to increase somebody’s heat tolerance. If the mage ever pursued this potion, Callan would be the first in line to try it, even going so far as to volunteer as a test subject.

Although, after having seen the young recruits in the washing rooms of the barracks, he knew that he should not complain. Some of the kids, the youngest of them were barely older than thirteen, had never experienced the perils of heated armour. Evidently, they were yet too small to wear an entire suit of armour, the weight would simply crush them, but their trainee plating would prepare them for the future. Being a soldier was simply not meant to be comfortable.

‘ _If it’s a hot day_ ,’ Callan recalled his father telling him one summer, many years ago, ‘ _leave the gloves on ‘til last, so you won’t burn your fingers_.’

To think that, at 18, going on 19, he was one of their superiors now and that he was expected to impart knowledge such as this to them...sighing, the teenager went towards a group of three boys who were fidgeting with the buckles of their pauldrons. If he taught them, then they would hopefully teach others. 

The kids were grateful for his advice and Callan returned to washing the crust of sweat off his body. The fresh water replenished his energy for the task ahead and a change of clothes into his regular, more civilian looking, uniform worked wonders, as well.

Upon leaving the barracks, he declined some of his comrades’ offer to join them for a cool afternoon ale, but not without promising to make up for it with a round of fiery festival brew.

Even though he was not too keen on overseeing the preparations for the annual Midsummer Fire Festival every day, he enjoyed the celebration itself. The times were dire enough - by the Light, they were at war - yet by honoring their traditions, the people of Azeroth regained at least some sort of familiarity and solidarity for one another. Also, booze. Given his parentage and his military background, Callan would never underestimate how something as simple as a flagon of ale was able brighten one’s spirit and to conquer all animosity.  

Despite his hair still being slightly damp from washing, Callan could already feel another layer of sweat beginning to form along his spine, as he climbed the stairs leading to the royal archives, located in an adjoining building to Stormwind Keep. Guarded by day and night, only a selected number of individuals were granted permission to enter the halls filled with Stormwind’s most valuable tomes and scrolls.

Luckily for Callan, as the son of Anduin Lothar, descendant of the royal line of Arathor, he was considered a prince of the blood. Hardly any door within Stormwind Keep, perhaps even within the entire city, would remain locked for him. Furthermore, Callan was a blood relative of the queen and her son, the crown prince of Azeroth, and nephew of the ruling king - by marriage. His mother might have been a commoner, however, given that King Llane had rightfully acknowledged his parents’ wedding and their marriage, nobody was able to strip Callan of his hereditary title besides the monarch.

Inclining his head in greeting, he strode past the two guards at the archives entrance, only to be halted in his step by Curator Willem.

“Lord Lothar,” the elderly man stood in the space between two tall marble pillars that separated the entryway from the grand main floor of the building. His opulently embroidered robes stretched dangerously across his potbelly. “What a surprise to see you here by yourself.”

“Curator Willem,” Callan approved of his word choice with a lightly sheepish smile. He had never been too much of a bookworm, not to the extent that Khadgar was at least, but ever since the young mage had taken up residence in Stormwind alongside the Guardian, Callan had ventured to the archives far more often in search for his friend.

Convincing Khadgar to leave his precious books was a feat in itself, requiring patience and determination. Also, Khadgar would, as Callan’s father liked to describe it, look as though a part of him died rather painfully every time he had to part from the tomes, scrolls and papers he held so dear to his heart.

Any other male youth would have jumped at the idea of spending time with Anduin Lothar, no matter what the commander had in mind for them, nonetheless, Khadgar wasn’t like any other person Callan had ever met.

His father’s attempts at bonding with the mage had been quite... _disastrous_ in the beginning and that was putting it nicely.

“How may I help you, Lord Lothar? Are you looking for anything in particular?” The curator spoke kindly yet quietly as not to disturb the serene atmosphere between the rows of shelves. Dust particles gleamed faintly in the light coming through the arched windows of the long gallery high above the main floor.

‘ _Too much light and the ink will suffer_ ,’ Khadgar had said to him once.

“I”, now, Callan had anticipated this conversation. Naturally, he had hoped that he would be able to avoid it - that the Curator or his staff would be too busy to even notice him - but unlike Khadgar, he lacked the arcane power and knowledge to either teleport or to render himself invisible to sneak into places. “I was looking for information about anatomy.”

“Anatomy?” Curator Willem raised an eyebrow in wonderment, however he began to walk towards the stairs leading to the second floor. Callan followed swiftly. “Human anatomy?”

“Well, I don’t suppose we have acquired any further reading about orcish anatomy as of yet, correct?” Technically speaking, Callan was not lying through his teeth. The matter of his research was... _delicate_ to say the least and, for some reason, he felt that refraining from telling people that he wanted to learn how to pleasure a male partner was the way to go. At the end of the day, the young man had to maintain an image worthy of the royal family.

So ‘ _anatomy_ ’ it was. Besides, where else was he going to start? Certainly, there was no section in the archives labeled ‘ _sexual practices_ ’. Khadgar would know, if there was.

Despite the Kirin Tor’s pejorative attitude towards emotional attachment, the scholars regarded intercourse from a scientific point of view, teaching their students early on about bodily functions without shame.

“You have faced these monsters in battle, young Lord,” one flight of steps and Curator Willem was clearly a bit short of breath. Callan was sure that, if it weren’t for the steps within the archives, the man would have to invest in an entirely new, larger, wardrobe. “Why would you require more information about them? Just by fighting them, you have probably gained more knowledge than any of our files could provide. I must admit, our sources concerning their anatomy are scarce, at best. Since the foul creatures brought their fel into our world, even the scientists are careful around the bodies.”

Callan stifled a snort at that remark. Not only the scientists. Among the entire population, superstition about the orcs and the fel had sprouted like wildfire. The higher ranking officers had reported of ‘ _priests_ ’ which would ‘ _cleanse_ ’ soldiers’ armor and weapons after they had slain an orc to purge it of the fel - in exchange for good money, of course. Not to miss out on a business opportunity, sinister apothecaries suddenly offered pricey potions to prevent demonic possession. There were accounts of ‘ _fel-hunts_ ’ from the more remote areas of the realm, where people had been murdered by angry mobs due to dubious claims of possession.

The king’s days were already brimming with meetings at the war table, endlessly mulling over strategies, troops and resources. At the same time, the grand task of gathering confederates for the Alliance, a landmark in political history, was rather ungrateful as the people who had not faced the brutish Horde and their fel yet, did not see Llane’s vision. To top it off, the people of Azeroth falling into madness was not helping anybody. Fortunately, his uncle was surrounded by capable men and women, who would loyally support him any way they could.   

A few more steps and the curator stopped. They had reached the middle tier of the building, overseeing the vast entry hall to their left and an abundance of neatly arranged desks and workbenches to their right.

“This,” Curator Willem gestured towards the looming line of shelves occupying the entire length of the inner wall, “is our collection concerning anatomical matters. Recordings of all the intelligent races, including even trolls, are on the first six shelves to the right.”

“ _Six_?” Callan repeated incredulously. The shelves were nowhere near small. Each stood at about 10 feet, from floor to ceiling respectively, with a width of approximately 15 feet...at least.

“Yes, Lord Lothar, I’m afraid there simply isn’t more room. This is not the City of Lordaeron, where different sections are placed into entire wings,” Willem’s tone was purely apologetic. Of course, as a scholar, his thirst for knowledge rendered him sightless to Callan’s question. Where Callan eyed a tremendous amount of potential research material, the curator merely saw the amount of books he was incapable of displaying due to lack of space.

“These will do fine for now,” Callan nodded his head in thanks and the other man turned to leave.

“If you need anything else, young Lord, please let me know.”

“I certainly will, Curator. Thank you for your assistance,” the boy watched the curator huffing down the steps one at a time until he was finally out of sight.

Upon turning towards the shelves he had been referred to, Callan chewed absentmindedly on his lower lip. This would not be easy, but he had expected that. He was willing to put in the effort it would take.

If only the mental images of Khadgar arching his back in ecstasy to gain more friction from his mouth weren’t so distracting!

_Oh, well_ , he thought to himself, suppressing his sinful longings, as he stepped closer to inspect the titles on the leather bindings closest to him, _there ought to be something here, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3


End file.
